


feral love

by diggingthegrave



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: F/M, PWP without Porn, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:18:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4153278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diggingthegrave/pseuds/diggingthegrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You guys have been so kind with your feedback on my last baby fic that this piece came easily. Dedicated to my good tumblr pal maxfieldparrishes who just as yours truly, has a mighty need to see Ethan feasting between Vanessa’s legs. So, needless to say this is pure, unbridled smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	feral love

The fingers grasping the bars of the headboard are tight and the knuckles whiter than ever, and just below them Ethan Chandler opens and closes his fists as much as the cravats let him, the urge to do something as simple as touch momentarily restrained.

 

One of Vanessa’s hands leaves the bar to grip his locks, as his tongue draws lazy circles on her clit, keeping rhythm with the sway of her hips. She gasps loudly as Ethan sucks her in, and chuckles as she loses her balance for a second but recovers quickly, squeezing his head between her thighs.

 

Vanessa growls as a warning but he doesn’t seem to mind it very much, tongue flat against her folds and back again at her nub, this time picking up his pace as her grip on his hair tightens, grinding against his mouth hectically. She cries out and is right there on the edge, stilling and almost smothering him as she chases the last waves of pleasure crashing through her body.

 

Reluctantly, Vanessa gets off him, sliding down and collapsing on his heaving chest, her own trying to catch her breath. Her eyelids are fluttering close as her body starts to relax, but a faint voice calling her name beckons her back.

 

“Vanessa?” Ethan asks tentatively, voice low and thick. “Can I have my hands back now?”

 

She groans. “No. Not yet”.

 

His laughter rumbles across the room. “Vanessa, I want my hands back”.

 

Begrudgingly, she lifts up and unties the knots binding his wrists, and Ethan rubs one and then the other, before dropping his arms to his sides while she returns to her previous position, attentively hearing the beating of his heart.

 

“Thank you,” he whispers and she smiles. “I really like to hold you”.

 

“And I really like you holding me,” Vanessa whispers back. “Your hands are always warm. I enjoy the feeling”.

 

Ethan is rubbing her back softly, slow strokes from her shoulder blades to the small of her back. He keeps it for a moment, until one hand starts drifting lower, brushing her ass before squeezing it.

 

Vanessa jumps and snickers, trying and failing giving him a death glare. His long finger then goes even lower, teasing her entrance, still wet. With eyes still locked, she lowers her own hand between them, finding his hardness.

 

Ethan snorts and she squeezes him, gently, and then begins to stroke. He inhales sharply, grasping her hair and pulling her face to his, kissing her hard. Vanessa bites his lower lip and he growls, thrusting his finger into her.

 

She moans inside his mouth and grasps his length a little tougher this time, making him jump and flip them over. Ethan presses her firmly onto the mattress, and then lifts just enough to take her by the waist and turn her around.

 

“On your knees,” he growled. “And spread those legs for me”.

 

Her grin is feral as she lifts herself on all fours and raises her hips to him.

 

“Now take what’s yours, Mr. Chandler”.

 

He grabs her hips then,  _harsh_ , fingers dug deep in her flesh and Vanessa yelps breathlessly, as he bends over and grunts in her ear, teasing her folds with the tip of his cock, brushing it up and down.

 

They’re both panting hard, Vanessa turning her head to catch his lips but he shoves her down with a firm hand on her back, slamming inside her with one rough thrust.

 

Vanessa gasps out loud but he wastes no time pounding in and out, so hard and fast it feels her bed is going to crumble at any moment, headboard banging against the wall, the sound mixing with her whimpers and his groans, surrounding the room along with the slapping of skin against skin.

 

She feels him fully with every thrust, liquid fire running through her veins as she spreads her legs further, her walls still adjusting to his size while he keeps slamming relentlessly, lost inside her heat, drunk with the scent of her skin and her sweat and her wetness, so warm and so tight like the first night he took her and she scratched her nails across the broadness of his back, screaming his name while they collapsed together, and together they remained until the sun started to burn their skins and some nuisance called hunger started to strike.

 

Tonight is a cloudless sky studded with bright stars and the moon nowhere to be found, but Ethan Chandler is thrusting mercilessly inside Vanessa Ives, bending over and leaving bite marks all over the soft flesh of her shoulders and she is laughing breathlessly, her hands gripping the bedsheets as tight as she can while she feels she’s losing the last traces of consciousness— no, sanity— because of this man who just feels fucking amazing inside of her.

 

She doesn’t even know how everything was before.

 

Maybe it’s because she didn’t even feel anything before. Anything other than anger. Resentment. Pain.

 

Now, she feels. She actually  _feels_.

 

Feels his hand trace smoothly around her scar, the branded crucifix, an eternal physical reminder of the day she lost her mentor to the fire. He never speaks of it, as she never speaks of his.

 

They only listen.

 

But at this moment the only thing she listens to is his breath shortening, and the unexpected hand dropped between her legs makes her quiver and squeal, his finger rubbing her clit roughly as his thrusts become more erratic, shallower as she squeezes her eyes shut and cries out his name as she always does when she comes hard, and Ethan follows shortly after, one, two, three deep thrusts before he stills, moaning low and hoarse, lips kissing every inch of her skin he can reach.

 

He tumbles on his side bringing her with him, arm draped securely around her waist, lips leaving sloppy kisses over her shoulder and neck, and Vanessa sighs, lazy smile curving her mouth upwards.

 

“Do you think we should go to sleep now?” she asks softly, and Ethan just mumbles incoherently, burying his nose on the crook of her neck.

 

“I believe that was a  _yes_ ,” she whispers, chuckling, and he grunts. It doesn’t take long until she listens to his steady breath, and rests her hand on his, squeezing lightly.

 

It is good to actually feel, now.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from a song by the glorious Chelsea Wolfe.


End file.
